


Give it a minute

by calmlikesurrender



Category: This Is the End (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Gore, It's the apocalypse so blood and stuff basically, M/M, Profanity, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:13:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmlikesurrender/pseuds/calmlikesurrender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seeing the movie I kept thinking, okay but what happens when you die in the Apocalypse before you have a chance to redeem yourself of all the wicked shit? They don’t just get express passes downstairs, do they? This fic is basically just because I love James and I couldn’t leave it off like that. No way in Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give it a minute

            

 

Fuck, talk about pain.

            James has broken things. Sprained things. Torn things.

            He’s had staples and stitches and method acted his way through an amputation, which- he’s enlightened many- is sort of worse than the actual thing when you think about it. After all, slowly cutting your arm off sans medication lasts about an hour. Reliving it for millions on camera, though? That’s the sort of pain that sticks with you, dude.

            But those first few tears of Danny’s teeth were almost numb. He’d screamed, of course. It wasn’t like there wasn’t some level of agony involved. But it’s almost therapeutic- being eaten alive..

            It’s like, for the first time, he can truly relate to Aron Ralston. _This would be the perfect moment for a metaphor cut,_ he decides, stares off dramatically to his left past the pile of slick-washed skulls, _Give it a minute. Give it a minute. And.. Scene._

            Wait.

            He was definitely being chewed on a minute ago. Fucking Danny, ruining his one-way ticket to Heaven.

            He spots a break in the skulls, a wide wooden sign wedged in tight. Virginia Beach burned into it.

            Okay..

            So if they’re done eating him, then this has to be Heaven, right? You die, you get Heaven. The bible had to say that somewhere. Where was Jay when you needed him? Getting slashed in the Apocalypse sucks ten times more than just regular old dying, he reasons. So fair’s fair. God can suck his dick if he doesn’t agree with those terms. So.. Heaven circa anorexic ass Virginia Beach?

            Apparently it’s full of human skulls.

            James is not so much surrounded by them, as he is lying on the edge of some sulfuric, oozing ocean and the skulls are the sand.

            They’re shiny pearl white and spit shine clean, so far out around him on either side down the beach that as far as his eyes can see, they look just like sand.

He struggles to rise, digging his toes in the best he can until he’s at least wobbling at something near standing, just starting to panic, when he hears the scream.

He turns as fast as his stiff neck will allow, just in time to see a man stampeding towards him down the beach. The guy’s waving his arms out in front of him, shouting in something that sounds kind of like ‘Help’ and kind of like ‘Run’. James waves back.

“Hey, buddy!”

The guy’s kicking skulls everywhere. Close enough now that James can see the frat hoodie he’s sweating through.

“Hey, man,” James tries again, his voice coarse and barely carrying, “Do you know where the hell we are?”

“ _Run_!” is the guy’s eloquent response. After which, he gracefully trips over a little dip in the skulls, tumbling into himself and kind of whimpering. Even that doesn’t slow him down. He just starts to crawl, dragging his legs behind him like dead weight.

And Heaven? Heaven can fuck itself if it means James has to teach frat boys anxiety exercises for all eternity.

            He sighs and starts to make his way over when he feels the first little tremor in the ground.

            It’s barely a shiver, like weak aftershocks. But something about it stops James in his tracks.

            His heart’s beating a little too fast. His pulse is like thick pumping tension, heart wedged into his chest with barely enough room. And the kid just barely in front of him starts whimpering, crawling a little faster. “ _Oh god_.”

            James’ voice is sort of shaky, sort of pinched. “What’s going on, man?”

            And he gets two answers at once. One from the kid, who, pretty weakly, starts hurling right where he is a good twenty feet from where James is standing.

            The second is in the shape of a colossal black shadowed.. thing the size of a house that comes marching up the beach, blocking out the sun and _roaring._

No words, just these guttural bellows that seem to claw up from its chest, thick ash-coated wings fanning the sea air back and it hisses when water hits its molten scales.

            _Not Heaven_ , he has a moment to think. It’s just like the creatures before. Barreling towards them with its mouth hanging wide open, a full on Jaws array of angler fish teeth.

            _Fuck, this su_ -

\--

            “Hey, Seth?”

            _Such a silly game we play. Like a Summer’s day in.._

“Seth, man, your phone’s going off.”

            _What is love What is love I just_ -

            “Seth?”

            Okay, sleeping. Sleeping’s the best fucking thing ever. Maybe better than anything else.

            Maybe even better than sugar, which is almost painful for James to consider but he does, nuzzling into Seth’s chest a little more on the sofa.

            Thankfully, his ringtone fades out. But now James is awake and it’s always impossible to go back to sleep again. Which is irritating, he can’t lie, but not as irritating as getting scratched on the shin by Seth’s monster long toe nails.

            “Dude,” he groans, turning onto his side. The scratching stops thankfully, but now he’s getting full on morning breath and it smells so rank, he dry heaves a little. Then he opens his eyes.

            “Seth, that’s so..”

            Definitely _not_ Seth.

            Um, rule of thumb for waking up next to a grizzly bear? James is sort of gaping like a fish.

            The thing’s grumbling, arms stretched out, huge stomach heaving with chirpy little breaths. And that’s the smell, yep, burnt flesh and old blood and something sort of sweet like lemonade, lacing its way out of the bear’s throat.

            He eases back a little, trying to figure out where he is without taking his eyes off the bear at all.

            All he sees is grass, though. Well, grass and these spindly little trees that probably couldn’t hide a squirrel behind them if they tried. The bear shifts a little in its sleep, heavy paw slapping the ground right by James’ thigh and he might let a little urine go. Just a smidge, you know. He’s sure he read somewhere that it’s a defense mechanism..

            Whatever, he inches back a little more. Waiting for a good moment to make a run for it.

            He’s just about out of paw-swinging range when he sees the set of tiny little eyes peering at him from across the bear’s thick midsection.

            They’re hardly smudges in the shadow of him, settled beneath a wiry little pigtail, but James holds his breath.

            “ _Hey,_ ” he whispers. Waits for the bear to wake up and eat him.

            When it doesn’t budge, he tries again, “ _Hey, you_ ,” and the little eyes blink.

            _“What are you doing back there? You got a death wish?”_

            Two quick little blinks this time. “ _Come with me. You want this thing to eat you?”_

            The almond eyes start to lift a little until James can make out the impression of a tiny nose, then a chin, then the buttons on a dirty old jean jumper.

            The little Asian girl staring at him now looks half way between relieved and terrified. She doesn’t move an inch.

            When James wiggles back a bit more, though the bear twists, too. One thick arm coming around to scoop the girl in. It doesn’t even wake, only squeezes her close, snoring louder.

            For a moment, he considers trying to wedge her free. But she’s snuggled up so close to the thing, her head nearly up its armpit. Getting her out would definitely wake it up.

He sighs.

            _Sorry kid, you’re a goner._

Once he’s out of arm’s reach, he straight out hoofs it. No looking back. No idea where he’s going either, but well, anywhere’s better than where the man-eating things are, he figures.

            Which kind of twists in his stomach a little. Man-eating. He gets a quick mental glimpse of Danny and nearly trips over of his own feet.

            There’s something he’s forgetting. Something important, too.

            He’s slowed down to a jog, trying to gauge where he is, but there’s nothing particular. Only forest for what seems like miles.

            And he gets too tired to jog after a while, so he slows to a quick walk. Then something barely above standing still. Even then, it feels better to be moving at least. He still hasn’t seen another person. Another creature either, but he’s sure as hell not going to complain about that.

            Wherever he is, the sun is starting to set and he’s alone. Eventually shivering.

            The trees never thicken. They’re just needle-thin rods with barely any leaves for cover. And being out alone here is the last thing he wants.

            Finally, when it’s so dark he can barely see his own hand in front of him, he settles in at the base of a tree off to his left. And a voice in the back of his head says he shouldn’t go to sleep. He should stay awake and push through until he can find shelter. But he’s tired, damn it. And really hungry too now that he thinks about it. So he closes his eyes and it’s hours before he hears the first growl. So loud it nearly drowns out the sound of his ribs breaking.

\--

            This is a fucking mansion.

Old school, too. All the bells and whistles. And James knocks and the front door swings open.

He’s so fucking alone.

Like, come on, God. If you’re going to keep bringing me back from death like this, the least you can do is give me a buddy.

Preferably Seth, but you know, even Jonah would be cool. Pre-Satan Jonah. Or Craig. At least Craig would know how to work the bum ass record player in the mansion’s billiard room.

James plays with it for a while, but eventually gives up and hums a little to kill the silence, pouring himself a drink.

He’d woken up this time in a blood bath. No question about where. The Lincoln Memorial was in pieces all around him, chunks of concrete with bite marks in them.

He’d clambered to his feet only to be knocked down flat on his ass by a wave of people running from something and screaming at each other, blood soaking nearing all of them from head to toe.

 _Okay, so D.C_., he decides, just after a man stomps right on his left hand, shattering the bones, _D.C. can go fuck itself._

            Whatever the crowd is running from, it never shows. But in the chaos, a few people get beamed up in the blue Heaven light.

            One man tackles his daughter to take a bullet for her.

            “Could have been mine,” James grumbles, watching the man get sucked up into the sky.

            Another’s a teenager who pushes his girlfriend out of the way of a bus. There’s a woman who’s rearing down the way, barreling over whoever doesn’t dodge in time and the kid takes it head on. Blue beam. All smiles.

Fuck that kid.

James got his face chewed off, man. _Chewed off_ for Seth, and look where he is now.

Bumming it alone while Seth’s probably huddled up all lonely in Heaven somewhere wondering why James isn’t there yet.

And something small and rude tells him that maybe Seth isn’t in Heaven at all. Maybe he’s on Earth still, too, just dying on repeat waiting for a good moment to prove his holiness.

But he quickly squashes _that_.

Seth’s kind of an angel. If God made a mistake with this rapture stuff, it was with Seth.

He’s definitely in Heaven right now. Probably miserable.

Eventually, James makes his way to the sort of neighborhood that apparently even the Apocalypse won’t touch.

The gates are still intact. One three story brick house still has the sprinklers going. The Aston in the driveway is a little ashy, but looks like it hasn’t seen a bad day.

He walks down the street, trying to find something all white and stone and sort of beautiful, in a futuristic way. Something like his dream house, which might be a little bit like tempting fate to lodge somewhere so similar to where it had all started, but what the heck.

He sees it and starts flat out running.

Cold glass. No music. Pitch black.

Here is pretty much where he knows it’s going to end. Again. Maybe.

Whatever that means.

He’s sort of tipsy.  

James downs the drink. Sips a bit more straight from the bottle.

Maybe sort of drunk. No music and the world came to an end and somehow he and Seth ended up on different sides..

He’s not sure how it works. If it resets when he dies, or if it works for sleep, too.

He crosses his fingers that it’s only death. He’d give anything to just stay here for a while and pretend like nothing’s wrong if he could.

Whatever the outcome, he curls up on the sofa bed in the master bedroom upstairs. Wakes up in a room with concrete walls. A single thin bed. A window up so high there’s only the tease of sunlight. There’s a door, but it’s dead bolted and iron, a prison door, he realizes. Starts to back up against the wall when he notices he’s not alone.

There’s a man hunched over in the corner of the tiny cell. He’s wearing a wife beater and sweatpants, blood soaked into everything.

When he meets James’ eyes, he puts a finger to his lips.

 _Shhh. “Soon,”_ he mouths, motions for the door.

James holds his breath as the dull sound that he’d thought was thunder roars even louder. Boots on the metal grated floor walks. The clanking of metal.

 _Shhh_ , the man motions again. Another roar follows. Something no man could make. Something monstrous. The ricochet of bullet shells.

James takes a deep breath. Crouches down into the opposite corner.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how canon this is. But ah, who cares? It was fun haha Bear with me?


End file.
